


Interlude in Time

by likebunnies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Animagus, Explicit Sexual Content, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Infidelity, POV Hermione Granger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4006444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likebunnies/pseuds/likebunnies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the future, after school and everything else is over, Hermione is married to Ron but finds herself seeking something more from Harry. </p>
<p>Originally posted after 2003 but before the last books were released.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude in Time

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before the books were finished so it's completely AU in the fact that their careers are not right, the Battle for Hogwarts is never mentioned, and Harry isn't married to Ginny. And Ron is an animagus. 
> 
> This story started out as a joke about Hermione being mad at Ron for doing something stupid and had her running off to Harry every time she was angry at him. It was called 'What Would Hermione Do?' for a while. It's still about an affair but not as funny as it was meant to be because face it, affairs just aren't all that funny. Trust me. I now know that very, very well.

[](http://s723.photobucket.com/user/like_bunnies/media/interludeintime_zpszfp36vtk.jpg.html)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The First Time

She watched him as he was eating, trying to come up with a rational reason for why she couldn't wait to get out of here. There was only one reason and it wasn't very rational and... why couldn't he eat faster?

Hermione picked at the food on her plate nervously, her eyes constantly shifting towards the clock on the wall. It had been a gift from the Weasleys when she and Ron married and right now, in addition to the hands pointing to the six and the three, both of their faces were resting over home. There were several other blank hands just waiting for when they added more Weasleys to the household and Hermione always had a good laugh at the number of hands her mother-in-law had put on there.

Ron didn't know Hermione charmed the clock long ago to only show her at home or work or in between. He didn't need to know anymore than that anyway.

"Delicious," Ron said, pushing his plate away and standing up. "So delicious I've enjoyed it both times we've had it this week."

"I've been busy at work," Hermione said, barely listening to him now. She watched the clock, unable to catch her breath as the seconds ticked by at an impossibly slow rate. "I have to go back yet tonight. I don't know how late I'll be."

"All right then. Maybe I'll call on Harry and..."

"You don't want to bother him," Hermione said quickly, her eyes finally moving off the clock and to her husband.

Ron gave her a quizzical look. "Why not? Did something happen to him that I don't know about?"

"He just got back and probably needs to rest. I did speak to Dean earlier today. Maybe the two of you could do something since Ginny is out of town," Hermione said and he shrugged his shoulders.

"I could go back to the Ministry. There are a few things I need to finish up and turn into old Mr. Barley by tomorrow. That should keep me busy for a few hours and then maybe later you and I could..."

"I don't know when I'll be home," Hermione asserted, giving him a look that made it all too clear that even if she was going to be home, she didn't want to do that with him. "I'm sorry. Work has just been so draining lately. I just don't feel up to anything more."

Ron nodded his head. "Perhaps when your latest campaign is over, we can go somewhere. Just the two of us."

"That... that would be nice," Hermione said, looking away from his gaze.

She wasn't quite sure how they came to this point in their marriage. Was it just boredom? Who had time to be bored between work and keeping up the house? They used to go places together and there was no one else she would rather be with. They celebrated each others' successes and helped each other through any failures. Their life together was planned out and nowhere in the plans did it say she would grow weary of hearing about his day at work or that he would become sullen whenever she would remind him that she didn't want a baby before she was thirty. Those were the things they never planned for but those, and a thousand of other little issues, were the things making her wish she could just run from here.

"I'll be going then. I love you," Ron said and Hermione merely nodded her head. She did love him. She could barely remember a time when she didn't love him. She just wasn't in love with him right at this moment. She wasn't even sure if she liked him lately.

Neither said another word when, without clearing his plate, he left the room. She waited until she heard a 'pop' in the other room, letting her know her husband was gone from the house. She watched the hand on the clock move, placing him at work. The picture of him was smiling. She hated that clock.

"You can't keep doing this, Hermione. You're going to go completely mad."

No one answered her except Tuftytoes, the fat white cat that she got to replace Crookshanks when he died. She was the only cat she could find that would get along with Ron and didn't want to tear into him when he transfigured into his animagi, which was a lanky ginger cat that looked a lot like her first pet. There was a time when she used to talk to one, assuming she was talking to the other until she stuck a bell around Crookshank's neck so she could tell them apart. Ron found it all fun at first and then people starting teasing him over being a cat and he stopped the transfiguration.

But she always found it humorous that the person who was always doing so terribly in transfigurations class would be the only one to be able to transfigure himself. She always thought Ginny could but she just wasn't telling anyone. The Weasley family all had little secrets. Some where just harder to keep than others.

Her cat turned to her, blinked her green eyes and then meowed.

"That's right. This is insane, Tufty," Hermione said. Her cat got up and walked over to her, jumping on the table. For once, Hermione didn't chase her off.

Nothing had happened between her and Harry yet, or at least nothing physical. There was no denying that the emotional bond the two had shared since childhood had been growing stronger in the last few months. She knew that his return to London was going to spell trouble and she wasn't wrong. Why did he have to come live here now? Why couldn't he have been here when she wasn't feeling like there was a hole in her life that Ron could no longer fill? Now she just felt torn.

"There's nothing to feel guilty about," she said, stroking her cat. "We're just friends, that's all."

If that were truly the case, she knew she wouldn't be lying to Ron about her visits with Harry. She wouldn't feel the need to come up with stories about work and she wouldn't be staring at the hands of a clock she charmed so it would never accurately show her whereabouts.

If they were really still friends, she wouldn't be considering what she should wear to go visit him and whether this time she should change out of the pants she had on all day and put on a skirt. She wouldn't be worried about how going out into the rain to get to his place was going to make her hair go frizzy. And she most certainly wouldn't be thinking about changing her knickers before leaving. That was something a person did for a lover, not a friend.

Hermione stood from the table, clearing and washing the dishes without using any magic. She needed some time to think about what she wanted -- even though she knew what she wanted. The thought made her knees weak and her stomach flutter.

Closing her eyes, she could imagine it... almost feel it. His fingers touching her as she stared into his eyes, finally accepting this as inevitable. Undressing him and falling into his bed for the first time ever. Their bodies entwined as he moved in her...

A cup slipped from her fingers and hit the sink, the sound of shattering porcelain bringing her back to reality. It also sent water splashing everywhere, soaking her clothing.

"Just brilliant, Hermione. Why don't you break everything? No one will ever notice how nervous you are if you keep this up," she said, pulling her wand out of her pocket and clearing up the mess.

She looked down at her clothes and there was no way she could go now without changing them. Picking her favorite skirt and blouse out of the closet, she changed quickly and then decided since she went this far, she might as well change her knickers, too. The dishwater had soaked through her pants to them so she had to change them. At least that's what she told herself as she put on a particularly silky pair in a pretty shade of blue.

It was getting late and she was worried that Ron would come back before she could ever leave. Maybe she could apparate over to Harry's flat. Maybe she could just apparate right into his bed. She shook her head, casting out all those thoughts. That's not why she was going there. Besides, she was certain that the Ministry kept track of everybody who apparated in and out of Harry's. Even now, they kept track of most everything he did in their effort to keep him safe. It would be best to just walk over there this time.

Grabbing her umbrella, she headed out into the cold rain. His place wasn't that far from her home and like most of the places she and her friends lived in, it was nearly impossible to find if you didn't know it was there. Or at least it was impossible for Muggles to find. She never really had any trouble since the first time Harry showed her where it was and the secret to make it appear.

She was unable to make eye contact with anyone she passed on the city street even though none of them could possibly know about her thoughts or her guilt. The Muggles walking through the rain wouldn't know who she was or even have a clue about Harry Potter. Arriving at his door, she shook the water from her umbrella, closed it and set it aside.

"Alright, Hermione. You're here and you can't spend forever standing outside the front door," she said to herself, looking behind her to make sure no one was there. Harry's street was silent.

Hermione rapped softly on the door, ignoring the huge brass knocker in the form of a lion. Her knock was so soft that no one could have possibly have heard from inside. Maybe she didn't want him to hear. She could still turn around and run away. Escape was still possible. She could escape and feel none of the guilt and go back to . . .

Before that final thought could fully formulate in her mind, the door opened.

"I've been waiting for you knock," Harry said and Hermione had to fight to find her voice.

"You have? How did you know I was here?" she finally managed to say. He opened the door further, letting her in. She removed her cloak and hung it on the rack as he pointed to his latest acquisition.

It was a large orb that was filled with swirling silver clouds. When the clouds would part, it provided the perfect view of right outside of Harry's front door.

"Are you worried about who might be coming to your door?" she asked.

"No, I just like to watch you stand in the rain desperately trying to convince yourself that nothing is going to happen between us this time," Harry said.

"Is something going to happen?" she asked, swallowing hard. He didn't answer right away but rather walked away from the door towards the living room. She followed, thinking that she could still escape and never come back here.

But she knew she couldn't. It was already too late.

"Hermione, do you want something to happen?" asked Harry, going to a bookshelf and pulling a single book from it.

"I don't know. How do you keep it so tidy in here? Ron is an absolute slob yet you're so neat."

"You're one of my best friends. You're married to my other best friend. It would be bloody stupid for us to let something to happen," he said, coming to her with the book and ignoring her complaints about her husband.

"I know."

She took the book from him and looked at the title embossed in gold down the spine. Harry could never tell her where he had been but he always brought her a book back. That was how these visits started. She would come and collect whatever book it was and stay to chat for a while. Soon, she ached to see him and it had nothing to do with any silly book. Her need to talk to him and to see him again would be on the verge of desperation.

Now she wanted more and she shouldn't. She couldn't. It would ruin everything.

The problem was she didn't care. It was already too late and she didn't care.

"But still..."

But still she wanted him so much she was willing to destroy her life with Ron.

"I still want this," she said and it didn't take him more than a second to pull her into his arms, kissing her deeply, the book dropping to the floor. Her mouth opened to his, tongues exploring new places. Hands pulled at clothing, trying to get to skin.

How did they ever make it to the bed? She couldn't be sure but there they were, finally in his bed, and he was over her. His erection brushed against her in the perfect spot and she gasped, wanting him to do it again and again. Instead, he tried to slide into her but missed, his face blushing in embarrassment.

"Er -- I do know how to do this," he said as she reached between them, guiding him in. He began thrusting into her, pulling her legs up so he could sink in as far as possible. She couldn't remember the last time she actually wanted to be doing this.

"Yes, you do know how to do this," Hermione said, thrusting back against him, rolling her hips in time with his. Their eyes were locked, and she was sure the look of guilt on her face was just like the one on his. This was what she wanted yet at the same time...

It was pointless to worry about it now. She was in bed with another man -- not just any other man but with her husband's best friend. Her other best friend besides her husband. What a bloody mess.

He stopped moving but didn't move his eyes from hers. Everything they had seen together... everything they had done together... it all led to this. And in his eyes, there was an apology that she didn't want so she looked away. He didn't need to blame himself for one more thing. It was her decision to come here.

If they stopped now, she still would have betrayed her husband. She already did that long before she ended up in Harry's bed. They might as well finish what they had started. She turned back to face him and begged him to move again.

He did, changing the angle his body entered hers just enough that she could feel a tightening in her abdomen. His fingers touched her long enough for her to come, bringing relief to this ache she had inside of her yet bringing about a different kind of ache.

And then he was coming, crying out her name as he did so, something she never thought she'd hear. Something she was never supposed to hear. Then it was over but not over. This thing was just beginning and she didn't know how to stop it.

She didn't even think she wanted to try.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Another Time

Sometimes, Hermione would just apparate in. At first, it startled Harry but now he had grown accustomed to her arrivals. His flat was protected in a way that would allow in only certain people and she was one of the few. Ron wasn't even included on that list for good reason.

There where other times when Hermione would show up off the quiet street that ran in front of his place and, like a Muggle, use the old brass knocker on the door and wait for him to let her in. It didn't matter how she arrived for either way sent Harry's heart racing.

Tonight, she was at his door.

He looked at the silvery orb that stood on an antique pedestal next to his front door, allowing him to see the person on the other side. Hermione was standing in the light rain underneath the large, blue Muggle umbrella she always had with her. She looked behind her before knocking again.

Harry opened the door, continuing to watch the orb as she shook the rainwater from the umbrella. She closed it and left it propped outside next to his front door and as the image of her faded, he turned to face the real thing.

"I just got back and was about to make myself some tea. Would you care for anything?" Harry asked, looking at his watch. He didn't know how she did it, but somehow she always managed to show up within in an hour of his return. If she didn't, he would worry about her.

"No, I... we already ate. Ron likes dinner by 6:00 p.m. except during the Ministry's wizarding tax season. It doesn't matter then because he's never home to eat it," Hermione said, making a face when she said Ron's name.

"What did he do now? Didn't cough up another hairball on the rug, did he?" Harry joked. He didn't really want to know what his friend had done. He didn't want to hear about what went on when they were alone together in their home. He also knew that she'd never give him an exact answer. She used to, telling him about some petty thing that when piled onto more petty things, became a big thing.

"So many things. So very many things that I can't even begin to count them all," Hermione said, walking past Harry and into his small flat. She looked around and sighed, saying what she usually said at this point. "It's so tidy here."

"It can't get dirty. There's never anyone here to make it that way," Harry said, watching her walk around and look at his stuff.

They always did this, always played the same old game before they got down to the real reason she was here. Before they got down to business.

Her fingers ran over his possessions, touching the items he'd brought back from his travels. He'd always buy something for himself and a book for her. Always a book for Hermione. It wasn't very romantic but it was what she loved best and he wanted to make her happy.

On occasion, he'd even bring home a little trinket for Ron to put in his office at the Ministry. He felt sorry for his friend, tied down to a desk covered with souvenirs from trips he could never take. He felt more sorry for his friend because he knew what Hermione was here for.

Ron had chosen the life he did, working normal hours behind a desk. In that deal, he got Hermione. Harry had a life that no one really could understand but in taking that path, he lost the woman he secretly loved. Now he had her.

Or at least he had her for an hour or two once or twice a month.

"Where were you these last two weeks?" Hermione asked. He continued watching her, well aware that she knew he could never answer that. The books he would bring her gave enough away. Once she stopped moving, he walked over to shelf and pulled out his latest gift for her.

"It doesn't matter where I've been. I'm here now," he said, handing her the book.

She smiled, admiring the old leather cover, turning it over in her hands. "It's lovely," she said, opening it and silently reading a few of the ancient potions it contained, her eyes quickly scanning the pages. "Greece?"

"I can't tell you."

"Someday?"

"Someday," he said.

That word was a promise for so many things. Someday, he'd be able to quit what he was doing. Someday, she'd be able to leave Ron and spend her life with him. Someday.

Someday was also a lie, too. He'd never quit. She'd never leave. This was their life together. It all came down to a few stolen hours here and there. It was holidays spent apart because even though he had a standing invitation to the Weasley home, he knew the way they looked at each other would give it away. It was lying to Ron whenever he would contact him, wondering if they could get together. It was lying to the whole world. It was all a lie.

The only person he could be honest with was Hermione because she was his co-conspirator in this lie. And he couldn't even tell her everything.

She handed him back the book and he returned it to the shelf. At first, she used to take them home but now, they stayed here. He never knew if it was so she had an excuse to come over here or whether she was now too guilt ridden to take his gifts to her home. He hoped it was the former.

"One of these days, you're not just going to bring home a book and a souvenir. You're going to meet someone," Hermione said, her voice sounding tense. Sitting down in an armchair, she crossed her legs and smoothed out her skirt.

"Never," he said.

She rolled her eyes but he didn't care. He knew what his life was like out there and meeting someone would never be part of it. Even if he wanted to, which he didn't, it was an impossibility.

"You have no idea how much I worry about you, do you? I'm so terrified that Ron will come home from the Ministry with news... what would I do then?" she asks and he has no answer for her. She knew him well enough to know that what he did wasn't terribly safe but he had slipped thought the cold fingers of death so many times now that he no longer worried about it. That was, until a few months ago when this thing started with Hermione. Now he was worried about never seeing her again and there were times he was afraid it would start to hurt his work.

"Do you want me to give up what I do? Do you want me to take a job in the Ministry offices so you'll always know where I am? They'll gladly do that for me if I ask," Harry said and Hermione's eyes met his. It was tempting but what would it get him? At least when he was out there working, he didn't spend all his time thinking about the next time he would be with her.

"Are you asking me if I'd leave him if you did that?"

"No."

"I would never ask that of you. After a while, you'd grow to hate me for making you live like that. You would turn into..."

"Ron?"

"Yes."

"Ron doesn't hate you," Harry said, moving across the room to the fireplace. He took his wand off the mantel and lit a fire before sitting down on the chair opposite of her.

"He would if he knew," Hermione said, still watching him. He held onto his wand, his fingers running across the now slightly worn holly as he figured out what he was going to say. There really was nothing to say because he knew nothing was ever going to change.

"So you stay," Harry said. It was a stupid reason for staying but it was no worse than any other that he had heard before. They had no children to blame it on. At least not yet. He knew she stayed because she was afraid of what people would think if she left.

That wasn't entirely true. She stayed because she was afraid of what people would think if she left Ron for him. All the questions and rumors would be too much. There would be too much pain involved in it and they had suffered enough of that in their lives already.

She stayed and he stopped hoping for anything more a long time ago -- or so he kept telling himself.

The next part of the game was going to begin. She always had to take a few minutes to berate herself for doing this and for being with him.

"I shouldn't be here, Harry. I shouldn't run to you like I do. It's not that bad at home. Ron is a good man and we both know it," Hermione said, looking away from him.

"Yes, we do."

"He's kind and funny and a good friend to all," she said, examining the fabric on the arm of the chair as if she'd never seen it before. "Ron is nice and everything a woman should want for the rest of her life."

Harry could only nod in halfhearted agreement. Hermione put her hands back on her lap and looked at Harry again, taking a moment to think before she spoke again.

"But you're what makes want to live the rest of that life."

He wasn't sure who moved first but they met in the middle, falling into each other's arms. The wand fell from his hand as he grabbed her and it went clattering to the floor, rolling away from their feet. He didn't care about it or anything else but her and this moment they were in.

"I want to be there for the rest of your life," Harry said, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I miss you so much when we're apart that I'm not sure what to do with myself. I swear Ron must know something is wrong but he never says a word. I can't help but watch the clock and I'm not sure why since I don't know when you'll be back but I know with every minute that goes by I'm one minute closer to the next time I can see you," she said and he kissed her again, this time on her lips.

"Hermione..." he started to say something when he pulled away from her mouth, but she kept talking.

"Time slows down when we're apart and then when I'm here with you, it goes by so fast. I live my whole life on the few hours we have together," Hermione said, clinging to him tightly.

"We're running out of time, Hermione," Harry said, Hermione's eyes coming up to meet his.

"What? Running out of time for what? Is something wrong? Are you going away for a long time?" she asked, panicking over nothing.

"I meant, it's getting late and you'll have to go home soon and I want you so much that if you leave here before we... I don't know how I'll be able to stand it until I see you again," Harry said.

Her eyes locked onto his for a few seconds before he needed more than just this. They kissed again with such intensity that it surprised even him. Her mouth opened to his and as her tongue swept past his lips, arousal rocketed through his body. All the heat he was feeling settled right down to where she had just put her hand, her palm cupping around him until he was hard.

With one quick movement, her arms were wound around his neck and her legs were wrapped around his hips as they stumbled across the floor, trying to find... anywhere. It didn't really matter.

"I want you," she said, her words no more than a soft breath against his lips. "Now. I want you now."

"The bed?" he asked, his brain unable to focus enough to figure out in which direction his room was. It was then that he tripped over something that felt a lot like his wand and they went down to the floor together, Hermione ending up underneath him.

"The floor is also fine," Hermione said, smiling at him as she reached for his glasses that were now halfway down his nose and setting them aside.

She began a slow grind, her body pressing up to his, driving him to desperation. His mouth sought out hers again and everything from that point on became frenetic. He lifted himself off of her long enough for her to tug up her skirt and wriggle out of her knickers. She went to unfasten his trousers but he stopped her, sliding out of her reach.

Her hips arched up as his mouth brushed across her abdomen, his tongue darting out against her skin, teasing until she couldn't take it anymore. Her hands pushed him to where she needed him to be and he loved the way her body shuddered when he made contact in just the right place.

His body was screaming out for some sort of contact as he continued to work his tongue over her. He knew Hermione well enough to know it wouldn't take long for her to come the first time. After that, he sometimes had to work for it although calling it work was preposterous.

Now she was grinding against his mouth and reaching out with desperation for something to hold on to, finding only him and the wand that sent the two of them to the floor. He had only stopped long enough to see her wrap her fingers tightly around it before she pushed him back down to finish what he had started. He didn't object as he slid his fingers into her wetness, working them in rhythm with is tongue.

She came, thrashing about under his mouth as she cried out his name, and he heard wood clatter against wood as his poor wand hit the floor once more, rolling out of sight underneath a chair. He got to his knees, watching her come back to him, waiting for her to reach for him. She became still and opened her eyes while looking at him, smiling.

"Should we try the bed this time?" she asked, propping herself up on her elbows. She looked quite disheveled now, her skirt out of place and her hair more wild than usual. She didn't move to cover herself or put her legs together. They had nothing to hide from each other, only from the rest of the world.

"The bed would be nice," he said, standing and helping her up. He put his glasses back on and they walked hand in hand to his bedroom, looking like any ordinary couple. He loved these small moments when he got to feel what it would like to live an ordinary life -- when he got to see what it would have been like had he married Hermione.

Once inside of his room, he closed the door and turned to her. A lamp glowed from his bedside table, allowing for strange shadows to dance about. Their own shadows loomed large large upon the wall, waiting to make a move.

She moved first, closing the gap between them. Hermione quickly unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it down over his shoulders and to the floor. She sank to her knees before him and he felt as if he had forgotten how to breathe as she unfastened his trousers, easing them down over his hips. Somehow, he got his shoes and socks off without falling on his arse again and kicked away the trousers that were now around his ankles. Hermione tugged his underwear down, allowing his erection to spring free and looked at it before looking up at him.

He wondered if he would ever stop feeling guilty about doing this with someone else's wife. It wasn't the biggest line he ever crossed or the worst 'sin' he had ever committed. Adultery paled in comparison to killing someone, no matter how vile they might have been. She had been at his side then as she's with him now, always the witness to the worst in him. His accomplice. Or was he hers in this? He wasn't the one with a spouse waiting somewhere.

He also wondered how much guilt she felt when she returned home to him. Him. His other best friend. Ron. She was right. If he found out about this, it would be the end of them all.

"Stop thinking about it," Hermione said, standing up. She began to undress herself, stripping out of her skirt, blouse and bra. They stood naked before each other, both of them slow to make the next move. A clock ticked away each second as it passed, reminding them that they only had so much time. It was never enough time.

"How am I supposed to do that?" Harry asked and for a reply, she took his hand and pulled him to the bed. The both crawled up it and faced each other, hands slowly exploring exposed skin.

"Why do I always get the feeling that you think you're to blame for this?" Hermione asked and Harry shook his head. He didn't have an answer for her. "If only you said no or sent me away, it would all be okay or that my marriage would be fine if you hadn't come along? Harry, I wanted you as much as you wanted me. I'm the one who came to you, remember?"

He wanted to say that maybe they should end this but as her hand moved lower he found that his tongue just couldn't form those words.

The final part of their game was to begin, like it had every time since she showed up at his door months ago, wet and cold and looking as if she had made an important decision but she didn't know it yet. Perhaps she had. It was life altering at least.

They moved like comfortable lovers, her rolling on her back and pulling him until he was between her thighs. Her hand slipped between them, guiding him in, knowing that he didn't have any luck at getting it in without a little help. He knew how she liked for him to start off slow and then move to his knees so he could slam into her harder. He knew just how to make her come again and again.

If she hated Ron for all the little familiar things that came with marriage, would she eventually start hating him, too?

Would she hate him when he got so moody that he couldn't even stand himself? Would she run to someone else if he forgot to fold his socks? If he had married her, would she be with Ron right now?

A moan. A stifled cry. A gasp for air. All so familiar now yet somehow still dangerous. With him came the risk of being caught. He brought into her life a sense of danger that she couldn't find at home. As long as he could give her that, she wouldn't go to someone else.

"Stop thinking about it," she said again, her hand going to his cheek and shaking him from his thoughts.

This time he did just that, moving in and out of her body slowly. When she began to thrust against him harder, he moved to his knees, his fingers working to make her come again. She squeezed her eyes shut, rolling her head to the side. He didn't stop looking at her, waiting to see the expression of pleasure cross her face again and it wasn't long until it did. With that, he didn't have to think about anything but himself for a while.

Now he closed his eyes and pounded into her with such an intensity that the whole bed shook and squeaked beneath them. The headboard stopped slamming against the wall and Harry knew Hermione must have put her hands up to silence it.

He was close when she pulled her knees up a bit farther, letting him sink in impossibly deep. He opened his eyes long enough to see her staring back up at him and that was enough to send him falling into someplace where their kind of magic had no meaning because everything was magic all at once. A blinding white magic. And then he was falling again, but onto Hermione, both of them sticky with sweat now.

"I don't want you to go," he muttered once he caught his breath and slipped from her body. Her fingers swept his wet bangs from his forehead and then brushed across his lips.

He hated to think that she did all the same things with Ron. He was always going to be envious of the family Ron somehow managed to get either by birth or marriage.

"I love you," Hermione said and he propped himself up to look at her. It was something they never said to each other even they knew it was how they both felt.

"Why tell me now?" he asked.

"Because I don't want you to think I turn off my feelings for you when I walk out of here. I ache for you and coming back to you is the only way I can make it go away. Then I have to leave here and before I get to the end of that street or manage to apparate home, the ache starts all over again. Nothing can make it go away but you," she said, sighing.

"Time would make it go away," Harry whispered, his fingers twirling a curl in her hair.

"I'm not ready for that yet. I know this can't go on forever but I'm not ready for it to end," she said.

He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. The clock was still ticking but it seemed to be going too fast. He looked at it, willing it to just stop before she said the words she always said.

"I need to go," she said and he released her from his embrace. "I need to go home."

"I'll be leaving again tomorrow. I'm not sure when I'll be back," Harry said, watching Hermione get out of his bed. She began to gather up her clothing, putting everything back on except her knickers which were still in the other room.

"I'll know when you're back. I always do," she said, looking in his mirror and failing at getting her hair to not look like she had just been shagging. She threw her hands up and sighed, giving up.

"You always do," he said, getting out of bed. He didn't bother getting dressed. He was going to have to bathe once she was gone anyway. Hermione opened the door and he followed her down the hallway, watching as she slipped her knickers back on. She also did him the favor of retrieving his wand, placing it back into his hand.

"You're quite a sight, I must say," Hermione said, looking him up and down.

"I thought maybe I would tempt you into staying," he said, crossing his hands in front of himself, careful as to where he was pointing his wand.

"I can see enough of that at home . . . well, maybe not exactly like that," she said, and he tried to smile through her jokes but found it hard to do so. "Walk me to the door."

He did, pulling her into a long, passionate kiss before she could slip away from him. Had either of them bothered to look at the silvery orb next to the door, they wouldn't have missed the ginger colored cat that had been sitting on the front porch, looking at the blue umbrella.

By the time Hermione opened the door, the cat was gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Last Time

Ron needed to know for sure. He had suspected it for a while now, ever since he discovered that their clock had been charmed. The clock, like the one his parents had given them as a wedding present, would indicate that his wife was at work but when he'd go to the house elf services office, she wouldn't be there. Apparating back home, he'd find the Hermione hand of the clock still pointing towards work. Then he began to notice that no matter where she went, it always said she was at work or at home.

Then she stopped bringing home the books. She had shelves of books that Harry had given her over the years but one day, no more were added to the collection. Sometimes she would hand over a little something that Harry had brought for him and when he'd ask about the book she'd just shrug and say he must have been too busy this time.

Harry no longer would come to the Burrow for holidays. Harry no longer had time to meet him for lunch or go off to a hidden Quidditch pitch and just fly around like they used to. Something was going on and he had to know.

And now he knew.

Wet and cold and sitting here in the form of a cat, he was looking at Hermione's umbrella on Harry's front steps again. If it had only been once, he could rationalize it, coming up with a million reasons in his head why she would be here other than the one reason he didn't want to believe. Twice could even be explained. He assured himself it meant nothing.

But the lies had gone on too long for him to trust her -- or to trust Harry. Without them, he didn't know where to turn. His friends were the one thing in his life that he thought he could depend on, even when one became his wife. Hermione was the one person whose love he couldn't live without. What did he ever do to chase her away?

He wanted to change back into human form but didn't want anyone to see him standing out here in the rain, looking pitiful. And as a cat, he couldn't cry.

This would be one more thing he'd be ridiculed for.

Poor Ron, look at his hand me down robes and those tattered books.

Poor Ron, the only animagi in the group and he turned out to be a ginger cat that looked like a mangy stray.

Poor Ron, his famous best friend has been shagging his wife all along and he never knew.

Poor stupid Ron, not even brave enough to bang on the door and confront them.

He'd save the confrontations for later, after he had enough time to think this through. Right now, his insides still felt too raw and he was afraid that if he banged on the door and they opened it, he'd vomit right there on Harry's front steps. He didn't need that humiliation, too.

Instead, he turned from the door and slipped quietly down the street and into the night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The End


End file.
